Eighteen and Beautiful and Dancing
by pratz
Summary: "She closes her arms around Quinn as Quinn sings the line again, leisurely swaying from leg to leg to the sound of Quinn's small yet contented laughter. Nationals can wait, and the stage can share the drama if only for this moment." Set after Prom-a-saurus.


**Eighteen and Beautiful and Dancing**

Author: pratz

Disclaimer: RIB's.

Note: Because I can't _not_ write this.

-.-.-.-

There are a lot of things Rachel admires about Quinn Fabray—especially the recent Quinn Fabray, she rightfully adds.

Her strength when it comes to Beth. Her determination for her education. Her drive to not stop at all cost until she gets what she wants.

The way her eyes soften when she smiles, rare as it is. The way her bangs will sweep to the left side of her face when she tilts her head. The way her forehead allows a studious frown to settle whenever she thinks hard in class or whenever she is consumed in one of her books.

Also, misplaced as it may sound, she admires Quinn's bone-crushing dedication to cheerleading, knowing that Quinn always gives everything she has in Coach Sylvester's series of Spartan practice that leaves other Cheerios reeling with exhaustion and nausea. She admires, despite Quinn's ill chosen words and often times tone as well, Quinn's concern for her whenever she is about to compromise her dream—the dream that makes her who she is. She admires Quinn's choosing well intended straightforwardness over sugar-coated lenience whenever she is about to settle for something less than the best.

She can also admire one more trait of Quinn's that she is privileged to see now.

It is not like she is planning to catch Quinn after the still unbelievable prom. No. The idea does not even cross her mind at all. Finn has left earlier because his parents have booked a family dinner in Breadstick with Kurt and him. In accordance, Rachel's fathers are also coming to pick her after their movie date. Prom king and queen, going on their separate ways, in the night they are crowned. Imagine that. Now people have a sickening right to stop her and laugh at it, really.

If it were another person that makes her stop in her way passing the auditorium, Rachel will pay no heed at all.

But just like always, Quinn has the power to be the only one who can make Rachel stop doing whatever she is doing even when Quinn practically does nothing.

"Quinn? What are you doing here?"

She is back on the wheelchair, Rachel notices. Well, as graceful as she has been when sharing that stage with Santana, Rachel sees the way Santana supports her.

"Waiting for my mom to pick me," Quinn answers.

"Where is Joe?"

Quinn shrugs. "You know the only person I trust to drive me around is my mom."

The way Quinn says it almost makes Rachel cringe, but she does not. Quinn has stated vehemently that she does not want apologies, after all. "Have you been waiting long?" she finally asks. She herself has changed to more comfortable clothes for the self-titled Very Special Dinner: The Berry Way, and it alone has taken about 20 minutes in the bathroom. Surely Quinn does not...

_Oh_.

Again, Quinn only shrugs.

Rachel is not sure which horrifies her more: the fact that Quinn has been in the auditorium all alone or that nobody seems to care to keep her company.

She hesitates at first, but finally says, "Do you mind if I wait with you? My dads are also picking me up."

Quinn says nothing, but she wheels herself aside to give Rachel an access to a nearby chair behind her. She pulls the chair and sits next to Quinn, not really knowing what to say. Hell, their most meaningful conversations usually happen in the school bathroom—_their_ bathroom. She cannot really improvise here, in the room where she is crowned prom queen over Quinn, knowing that it is what Quinn has always wanted.

"Congrats," Quinn breaks the somehow uncomfortable silence, sounding rather unsure. "For the win."

"Thank you. And to you, too." She means it. "You were amazing."

"Santana picked the song."

"No. You stood," Rachel says, and an idea hits her. "Can you do that again?"

"Singing?"

"Standing," Rachel corrects.

Quinn gapes at her for a brief moment before she glowers. "Is this supposed to be some kind of joke? Because if it is, I'll make—"

"Quinn," she interjects, offering a hand. "Please?"

Truth be told, half of her is afraid that Quinn will refuse the offer or that Judy Fabray will arrive ill-timely. Half of her is afraid that Quinn will return to that cutting edge of hers and rob her of this very privilege of seeing this Quinn Fabray and not the person that she used to have always wanted to be. Not the queen bee stock character that used to discard even her smallest offer of friendship over and over. Not the angst-ridden, bewildered and hurt person who has more burdens on her shoulders than her peers do.

The other half, however, is encouraged by the slight, tentative pull at the corners of Quinn's mouth, a prelude to a smile.

Rachel's smile cannot get any wider when Quinn puts her hand in hers.

"But it's only because it's your great day and I don't want to ruin it for you," Quinn says. "And I'll pack you to Timbuktu faster than you can say 'prom' if anyone knows about this."

Using the leverage, she pulls Quinn to her feet carefully. She is not going to break, Rachel knows, but there is no way she is going to rush Quinn. Holding her breath, Quinn wobbles a little before she steadies herself. One foot gets a firm stance first, then another, then the bent knees straighten, then gone is the aura of the accident and the gloom, and though the shakes on her calves are visible even through the ball gown, Quinn _is_ standing.

"Oh my God," Rachel breathes in awe. "You _are_ amazing."

"Of course I am," Quinn replies sharply, but her grin soothes the bite.

Then the quivers become too much, and Quinn falters forward. Rachel finds herself locking Quinn in place by an arm curled around her waist. She has expected Quinn to snap, but Quinn has the wit to muster a sheepish 'Oops.' Rachel cannot help laughing at that, good humouredly and just so damn happy for Quinn.

"Told you," Quinn declares. "I'm a woman of my words."

"I know," Rachel says. "You're going to dance in Nationals. And I believe in you."

Quinn puts a hand on Rachel's shoulder to secure her balance. "It takes time," she says. "I still need to go to PTs, and I'm not allowed to strain my legs by moving too much. But hell. If a truck can't stop me, these legs should know they can't, too."

And that exactly is just another trait that Rachel admires about Quinn. That she chooses to suffer in silence not because she is too proud to ask for help but because she knows her strength. That she is willing to wait all by herself in the dark auditorium not because she does not want pity but because she knows she is bigger than her weakness.

Settling to support a bit more of Quinn's weight onto her arm, Rachel lets a hint of gratitude seep into her voice when she opens her mouth next.

"Watching every motion in this foolish lover's game. Haunted by the notion somewhere there's a love in flames."

"_Seriously_?" Quinn asks, incredulous, immediately noticing the lyrics. "You really want me to start _now_?"

Taking a small step away from Quinn, she tilts her head so she can look at her in the eye, and Quinn is amazingly, perfectly, fittingly eighteen and beautiful and dancing. "Turning and returning to some secret place inside. Watching in slow motion as you turn to me and say..." she continues, waiting patiently for the slow dance to begin just as Quinn has always been patient with her.

Wordlessly, Quinn leans further into her, advancing their half body hug into a proper embrace.

"Take my breath away," Quinn finishes softly.

She closes her arms around Quinn as Quinn sings the line again, leisurely swaying from leg to leg to the sound of Quinn's small yet contented laughter. Nationals can wait, and the stage can share the drama if only for this moment.

Right now, this is enough.

-.-.-.-

Reference: The title is taken from Lady Antebellum's _Dancing Away with My Heart_ on, which serves as my Quinn anthem. Seriously, the song is just written for Quinn.


End file.
